One More Time
by TastyCannibal
Summary: Fang reflects on his life and his time with Max and the Flock. Set in the middle of Fang. AU story. Fax and slight Figgy and Mylan. Warning: Character Death. Oneshot.


**Summary:**Fang reflects on his life and his time with Max and the Flock. Set in the middle of Fang. AU story.

**Pairings:**Slight Figgy, Fax, and Dax.

**Warnings:** Character death/suicide; Boy/Boy pairing; minor language. NO BETA READER.

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><p>One More Time...<p>

Fang held the knife over his wrist, waiting to make the cuts. He would make her see what she had done to him, how she had driven him this far.

She wouldn't find him until it was far too late: when all the life had left him, and she was powerless to bring him back. Maybe she would finally see his pain, and all the damage she had caused. She could sit back, and watch, as he finalized his Suicide Ride... Because there was no way she could stop it.

The letter that lay on the cold stone beside him wasn't grand or wordy or planned at all. It was simple and quiet, like he was:

_ 'Max,_

_ All of this is your fault. I'm sorry it had to be like this. You have no right to be sad after what you did._

_ Fang.'_

He knew it said everything it needed to.

Still, he felt the tears slipping down his cheeks as he brought the frosty metal to the chilled flesh of his wrist. He dragged it slowly upward; running from his hand to his elbow; a long, deep cut. And it wouldn't be a mistake. He knew that. This was right. He made thirteen cuts: One for Max, one for Dylan, one for Jeb, one for regret, one for heartache, one for love, one for time, one for dreams, one for hatred, one for fate, one for fights, one for anger, and one last one for Iggy. The last one was the deepest, and he knew it was all over with that last cut. He couldn't turn back. He could only move forwards. He kneeled on the harsh frozen stone, and let the tears fall, holding himself together with his shredded arms.

Max didn't care that he disappeared for days on end, only demanding to know what he'd been doing once he came back, as if she deserved to know and dictated his life. She was too busy shoving her tongue down Dylan's throat to notice when he came back nearly dead after fighting for his life. She didn't care. In her eyes: he was expendable. She'd been desperate with hormones and lust when she'd said she loved him, and been all too happy to leap on Dylan: a willing partner whose one goal was to fuck her brains out. Fang had actually loved her. Guess that didn't matter to her at all.

Dylan had been so obsessed with getting rid of him that he'd gone so far was to get Fang drunk and convince him he was problem for the Flock. Just another mouth to feed, even less human then the rest of them. That he was a monster… and a danger to them all; that even IGGY hated him. It was Dylan's fault he'd ended up back at the School again, and tortured to death twice over, before being revived and most finally escaping, but just barely. He'd held on to life that last time with just a string, just that to see Max again. But when he'd slumped through the door of Dr. M's house, she'd pulled away from Dylan, wiping the spit off on her sleeve and demanded why he was there now, and where he'd been, and why he looked like shit. That was it. She didn't even wait to hear his answer, too busy with her foreplay to bother.

Jeb had pushed Dylan off on them, insisting it would be for the better. It really wasn't. Max forgot what it meant to be a leader because she was too busy trying to get Dylan to fuck her into the couch, table, wall, bed, ANYWHERE. Dylan broke the Flock apart, and caused so many problems that never would have been there if he had just stayed away. Jeb had always favored Max outright, but he'd been working on Fang separately behind the lines: Testing his endurance, his abilities, his tolerance for pain, his regenerative abilities, how much damage he could take before he'd flat-line. He was making the ultimate killing machine, and might have succeeded if they hadn't found Iggy, and Iggy hadn't talked to Fang more and more.

Iggy became one of Fang's only friends. Max was an Ally, not a friend. Iggy would talk him through whatever fucked up drugs they'd slipped him, telling him again and again he'd be okay, and it wouldn't last. He thawed Fang's frozen heart out from the ice he'd put around it. They day they had taken Iggy away for the eye surgery, something inside Fang had died. Maybe it was mercy, maybe it was compassion, who knows. But he was taken out not ten minutes later and made to kill countless other experiments, fight them until they fell apart no matter what happened to them. To always win. To be invincible. And Fang had. He'd followed the orders perfectly. Jeb had made the Director a Soldier He'd made her a fighter that would never disobey, would never back down from a fight, would never surrender.

Maybe that was why he'd taken them away from the School. He realized that he'd made a monster, and what that thing could do in the Directors' hands. Whatever the reason, he'd taken them away, and that was all Fang owed him.

He regretted everything he'd ever done in his life. Loving Max, letting Dylan convince him to leave, letting Jeb use him, and never saying what her felt or thought, especially when it came to Iggy, hiding everything from all of them. Everything. And now he was dying. That thought didn't feel wrong at all somehow. It felt right, the first thing to feel like that for a long time. He wasn't going to spew all of his life secrets and feelings. No. Most would follow him to his grave, and that would be that. He'd always known he'd never have a happy ending, and now that ending was there, running towards him even faster.

The sickly sweet smell of the blood, the burn of it against his frost bitten skin as he let himself bleed out on the ground there, staining the snow with crimson carnations; all of it… all of it was part of his ending. His hatred, his anger, his shame… all of it. All of it was flowing out of his body in ever thinning streams as sounds and feelings became duller and duller. He heard something like wing beats, and wondered dimly if it was someone from the school coming to take him away. To make him into a monster. As if he wasn't already. Jeb had run so much shit on him that he hardly cared, and just tossed him aside for Max once he was done fucking him up. She was supposed to 'save the world' after all. Like sucking face with Dylan would save the world. He heard a startled cry, and thudding footsteps. He felt someone shaking him, begging him to say something.

And he knew it was Iggy. His voice was cutting through slightly, screaming at him to wake up, move, talk, do something, _anything._ But he knew it was all over. He had always known it was all over. At some point, he had slumped over and been laying down, because he dimly felt his head resting on something warm, and someone holding his face in their hands.

That someone was Iggy… he felt the wetness on his face, that wasn't tears. Iggy was crying over him, holding him close, and he could hear what he was saying now.

"… please, Fang please come back to me! I love you, please, fuck, please don't die! I need you, pleasepleaseplease don't die, god, fucking god please don't die! I need you, I love you! How am I supposed to smile without you?" His voice was wavering, the tears falling on Fang's face the cause of that. Fang lifted a hand up, stealing more and more of his energy, the limb feeling like deadened lead. He cupped Iggy's cheek gently, damning himself to hell for missing Iggy like this, for wanting to take it all back just so Iggy wouldn't be crying right now.

He never got to say it. Those four words that would change his life, and the other's. He never got to tell him what he needed to. Because he was slipping away ever faster. His heart shuttering to a halt, and his eyes slipping closed, long since stopped seeing the only face that ever mattered to him, though it's impression would always be burned into his deadened mind.

He never got to say it before his hand fell away from the other's face, cold fingers slipping through clutching, desperate, warm -_alive _- ones. He never got to say anything more.

Fang was dead Forevermore.

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><p>Hey guys, sorry my first story had to be so pathetically short and mildly depressing.<p>

To anyone who reads this, I thank you for reading my pathetic drivel on to the end. I intent to publish some stuff in the future, but wanna see how this goes over first. ***fidget****fidget*******Ehem, anyways.

Review please! Flames welcome. :3

-Nulm.


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